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Benin-Jeri Meets Wa-n'Da
Log Title: Benin-Jeri Meets Wa-n'Da Characters: Benin-Jeri, Wa-n'Da Location: North America Date: June 07, 2006 Category:2006 TP: Junkions: Return to the Fold TP category:Logs As Logged by Benin-Jeri - Wednesday, June 07, 2006, 1:26 AM ---- Channel Chatter <> Wa-n'Da says, "This place is nice and all, but the whole planet's like a big soup kitchen. When can we take the fight somewhere healthier?" <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "Hello. Something seems to be happening." <> Wa-n'Da says, "Cool! Where's the action, comrade?" <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "What's the frequency, Kenneth?" <> Wa-n'Da says, "Das'right, mon." <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "Dude, where's my car?" <> Wa-n'Da says, "Hakuna Nevada." <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "Lucy, you've got some 'splanin' to do." <> Wa-n'Da says, "Don't look at me, dude. I always remember where I park." <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "It's The Kid . That dirty rat..." <> Wa-n'Da says, "I blame gnomes" <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "I blame society." <> Wa-n'Da says, "And the Man" <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "What about Chico?" <> Wa-n'Da says, "Nah. He's fine" Southwest United States - North America The Desert Southwest is exactly what it sounds like: Desert.. The arid regions of Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico predominate, with their rocky peaks.. The major vegetation in these areas consists of desert scrub, and cacti. Rainfall in this region is sporadic, limited to annual downpours that lead to flash floods. Habitation is sparse and centers around water and/or major highways. Some towns are little more than wider parts in the road with gas stations. A quarter tank of gas can mean the difference between life and death here. Only appropriate in this area that a road listed as 'Route 666' runs through this, from New Mexico into Utah, crossing the corner of Colorado to get there. Utah and Colorado are anomalies in the northern part of this region, with their more forested areas. Along the western section of this region is California with a paradox of climates. The southern half of the state is similar to the more arid areas of Utah and Arizona, while the Northern and coastal regions are more lush and green, like Colorado. Contents: * Twin Junkwagons Vroooom! A pair of station wagons that look like they've been repainted time and time again, and not all in the same colors. Peace signs, graffiti in alien languages, spraypaint images of flaming fuzzy dice, and a myriad of other patterns and shapes. Bumper stickers, too. On one of them, the sticker 'What Would Cthulhu Do?' On the other, 'Horn If You're Honky'. Look closer, and you might wonder if these were fresh from the set of Mad Max. Nestled in each car's grill is what just might be a rather nasty-looking gun. --- Twin Junkwagons are out in the middle of the desert, kickin back, relaxxin and listening to the radio (including a number of visual data broadcasts), with their silar panels rolled out on the sand to pick up a little juice. Sandy as this planet may be, it's got lots of energy just laying around where anyone can grab some. Harley Davidson Fat-Boy is roaring through the desert as well, riderless. Twin Junkwagons are just sitting and recharging. They are nothing if not survivalists at heart. And the more you make or find for yourself, the less anyone else needs to give you. Junkion philosophy. They send out a little radio chirp, as they hear an approaching engine <> Crazy Ol' Benin-Jeri says, "Where o where has my V'Ger gone... oh, where, oh where can it beee?" <> Wa-n'Da says, "Down the hall and to the left" Harley Davidson Fat-Boy continues to approach the station wagons' position, roaring along the deserted highway. Broad and bulky shapes become slightly less so as a pair of Junkion ladies form from twin station wagons. Or possibly from a really big guy. Hard making transformation messages for triplechangers. One of the station wagons transforms, and wanders up to the side of the road, posing there as though showing a little leg. It doesn't work so well when you're always naked and your race is asexual, but the point is made. Harley Davidson Fat-Boy slows as it approaches you. "Hey, good lookin'," it quotes. "Whatcha got cookin'?" "Couple kegs o'homebrew, comrade!" says the armoured femme, giving a salute to her fellow Junkion. "Want a taste?" Ben quotes, "I've always gotten by on the kidness of strangers..." The chrome chopper emits, "Honeeeeeeey FLASH!" and unfolds into the rotund form of Benin-Jeri. Wa-n'Da takes a little bow, and leads Ben over to her sister, still in station wagon form, with a set of dark, high-efficienct solar panels rolled out over the ground. They barely even heat up in the sun, so much of the light that hits them is converted. Benin-Jeri quotes, "Wow. Nice setup you have here." He squints at Wa-n'Da. "Have we met?" ---- Oh look. Twins. A pair of Junkion femmes, standing a full thirteen feet tall. Their bodies may have that patchwork look characteristic of Junkions, but they seem to be of solid construction. Very solid. These ladies have the kind of build that, in humans, is associated with women who compete at the national level in shotput competitions. Broad shoulders, thick arms, stocky legs, and powerful waists. Of course, if hey were human they wouldn't have the remnants of soot around the rocket vents on their legs and back, or car tires on the sides of blocky corearms and lower legs. Might not have the shotguns slong across their backs either. 'Cept maybe in Texas. Their eyes shine a bright green, sparkling when they laugh, and they laugh often. Often while trading parts, sometimes whole limbs in public. They've been decorating each other with spraypaint, and have painted rainbow-hued wings in ther backs, along with a multitude of other designs on their bodies. ---- Wa-n'Da pulls an energon reconstitution device, made largely of refurbished parts, from the cargo space of her sister, allowing the second twin to transform. "We are, we are, the youth of the natiion." they say. "Living in stereo, it's alright," says one. Ben quotes, "I am Benin-Jeri. Human-Cyborg relations." He does a little bow. Wa-n'Da both bow, in a manner most formal. "We are Wai-nin Wa-'nda. We are the taste of a new generaion. We will crush our enemies, see them driven before us, and hear the laminations of their women!" The one on the left makes a little stretch-snap sound, like shrink wrap. Benin-Jeri raises his eyebrows. "Oh, my." He quotes, "Nice to see such, er, verve in young people today... Have you, by any chance, seen my ship? It looks a little like a hamburger with an olive stuck on top of it..." Wa-n'Da confer between themselves, seeming to half-suggest a dozen or so things before finally stopping and turning back to face Benin. "We aren't sure. But we thought we saw something like that on the pad at Metroplex." One shrugs, and the other nods enthusiastically. Benin-Jeri hms... "The Kid, then. As I thought." He looks around at Wa-n'Da's set-up. "What's a nice couple of girls like you doing in a place like this?" Wa-n'Da glance to each other. "Snacking." says one, pulling a small energon cube from the reconstitution engine, and offering it to Ben. Benin-Jeri smiles brightly. "Energon! Been a while." He accepts the cube happily, quoting, "Better than Earl Grey. Hot." He sips from the cube, savoring the taste of the concentrated energy form. One twin bows. The other says, "We got a load of depleted energon from a few fights with 'Cons," she elaborates. The other says, "So we used some of their bits to make the reconstituter se we could keep a full charge." Both nod. "THe planet's like a soup kitchen," says the twin on the left. "Gritty," she says, the other twin examining a little sand between her fingertips. "But energy's all over the place." Benin-Jeri nods, savoring another sip. He quotes, "Easy picking compared to that of our homeworld. Of course, there's the war to contend with..." He makes a face, and looks tired. The girls glance to eachother and smirk. "Oh, we think we can help with that. "Not to toot our own horns, but..." One toots her own horn, and the other sticks her tongue out at her twin. "But we have a really big trick up our sleevelessnesses." Benin-Jeri raises his eyebrows again. "Oh? Do you now?" He looks from one twin to the other, curiously. Wa-n'Da bow. "We just got to keep it together...." With a fearsome roar and the sound of transformation, the twins fly together and take on the form of the mighty Wai-Nin! Benin-Jeri quotes, "And I'll form the head!" --- Now this boy looks like one tough customer. Maybe it's the spikes on the knuckles of his right hand. Maybe it's the flaming skull spraypainted on his chest. Maybe it's that his mouth looks like something a snapping turtle would be proud of. Might just be that his left arm ends in a cannon with a viciously serrated bayonet. Fearsome he may be at his thirty-eight foot height, but one look at the smile in his shining green eyes, and he dsomehow doesn't seem quite so terrifying. His chest is broad and heavilt armored, his legs are long and thick, as befits a warrior of the Junkion race. The fuzzy dice handing around his neck where some would have dogtags are kinda fitting, too. --- Benin-Jeri quotes, "Bad, bad, Leroy Brown. Baddest man in the whole damn town. "Badder than ol' King King, and meaner than a junkyard dog." Wai-Nin grins toothily. "The bad guys come a knocking, we gonna mess 'em up real good." he shows Ben his non-cannon forearm, "When TCE came by, Warpo the Clown went against us in the arena. We don't like to spoil the ending, but," and a repaired seeker laser pops up out of the back of the monstrous Junkion's arm. Benin-Jeri quotes, "Guns don't kill people... I do." He shakes his head. "I'd hoped to keep us out of this war..." He hangs his head. "Mission Accomplished," he quotes, before adding a sampled, "Not!" Wai-Nin retracts his trophy, which he's wired up to serve as a backup in case containment on his arm cannon fails. He chuckles softly at that. "It'd have been nice to stay out, but the longer we stay out, the harder it'll be to stop from getting dragged in. You know as well as I do the 'Cons would want our planetoid. "So did the mechs that built us. We're gonna go through the Decepticons and Evil Inc like a chainsaw through tofu, and we aren't even the biggest thing on the table." Benin-Jeri frowns. "The Planet of Junk..." he starts, but seems to change his mind. He sighs. "You're right, of course. I tried to get out, but they kept pulling me back! We fight the battle here, so we won't have to face them at home." He looks around at the desert landscape. Wai-Nin breaks up, and seporates into the twins once more. "Not your fault, comrade. We do what we gotta, and you did it real well." The two glance shiftily back and forth. "Y'know, I think we might be better off fighting them at home." Benin-Jeri smiles wryly. "We do have the homecourt advantage, but it's not easy luring our prey there... Longsight and I have been trying to repair the damage done when the Autobots and the Decepticons fight, while keeping an eye on Evil, Inc...." Wai-Nin rub their hands together. "Heh. Every inch of ground's metal, sensors stop after a foot. Even the biggest plasma cannons won't cut through it fast, we're camouflaged everywhere, and when a 'con goes down, they'll never find any of the bits..." They nod to him. "How're we gonna get them off this rock, though?" Benin-Jeri shrugs. "Nothing they want is on the Planet of Junk... that was kind of the point..." Wai-Nin grin maniacally. "One man's trash is another man's treasure!" says the one twin. The other says, "There's loads there, but they won't go for it while they think there's a better prize here. Maybe we gotts flash the bling a little more, eh?" Benin-Jeri strokes his goatee. "That's an interesting idea... It would be nice to be proactive rather than reactive for a change..." One twin cackles like a maniac, "Ohyeah! If we can get the 'cons over to our home turf, it'll be like making kielbasa toss itself into the piranha tank!" The other rolls her optics, and quietly advises Ben, "She gets like this sometimes." Benin-Jeri pulls one side of his mouth into a grin. "Far be it for me to cast stones at another's sanity. I have to call him Mr. Lucidity. And that's no good in a pinch!" Wai-Nin both nod to Ben, "Oh yes, we have an idea too!" They glance about conspirationally. "The Decepticons are lazy bastards, they want to take everything they need from somebody else. They're thirsty for energon. We don't have lots, but our planetoid's orbit is wonky. We fire up a few of the old engines, for a nice, steady burn, and we should be able to keep it in a tighter orbit, like what Mars is in, in this system." The other twin continues, "We expand our solar arrays. They gotta be huge. And we squirrel away energon like it's going out of style. We use it to arm up, build up and suddenly, just as we're turning into an even harder nut to crack, we're also starting to look damn good to the 'cons." Broad and bulky shapes become slightly less so as a pair of Junkion ladies form from twin station wagons. Or possibly from a really big guy. Hard making transformation messages for triplechangers. Benin-Jeri's brows furrow. "Bring Junkion HERE? Are you sure that's wise?" Wa-n'Da shake their heads. "No way! It'd take forever and a half, and slowing down would be disastrous. Keep it in the same system, just in a closer orbit." Benin-Jeri nods. "Sounds a bit more reasonable, although still dangerous. Altering a planetary orbit isn't something to be done lightly." Wa-n'Da shrug, "It's a small, artificual world that's basically a lump of starship. It's probably the only planet that already has all the gear to do it, and enough engineers to make sure it works right the first time." Benin-Jeri frowns. "We'd better discuss it with Fearless Leader, and maybe run the calculations by Kaleidoscope to make sure everything is feasible. Measure twice, hurl our homewold into its sun once, I always say... Wa-n'Da both nod, a little out of synch with each other. "That's a saying that's not going to come into play a lot. But yeah, we'd better talk it out with everyone first. Even if all we do is slowly bend our orbit until we have it the way we like it. Heck, if we get enough energon, we'll hit a golden age like Cybertron hasn't seen for millions of years." Benin-Jeri nods. "I'll get on the horn with Fearless Leader -- Mork calling Orson. The Many shall be gathered." He touches the side of his helmet, and mutters, "Showtime, Synergy!" With that, he transforms into an ugly chrome chopper. The Harley Davidson Fat-Boy quotes, "'Til All Are One Man, One Mission from God!" Wa-n'Da both salute the portly Harley. "Ia Shub-Internet!" The Harley Davidson Fat-Boy roars off, with renewed purpose.